Faye's POV
Those words had been a confession, and I knew it. Despite my inexperience with matters of the heart, with genuine human connection, what I had just uttered crossed every line of casual conversation.
The weight of that realization hit me like a physical blow. My stomach clenched with the desperate urge to vanish, to sink through the floor and disappear forever. But reality refused to bend to my wishes, especially not when Hardy continued staring at me with that expression, as though I were made of glass that might shatter with the slightest movement.
My thoughts raced, searching for an escape route. Perhaps I could force a laugh, dismiss everything as meaningless banter, act as if none of it mattered. Would that work? Would it make him stop looking at me like that? Even as the idea formed, I recognized its futility. I might lack experience, but I possessed enough sense to know that spoken words could not simply be erased.
